


Tempus: Weaver

by MysteriousMew



Series: Tempus Series [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed, Assassin's Creed Syndicate - Fandom
Genre: Drama, Eventual Smut, F/M, Not A Girl Becomes An Assassin, Romance, Supernatural - Freeform, Time - Freeform, shit happens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2018-06-01 09:29:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6512737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysteriousMew/pseuds/MysteriousMew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'We are driven by five genetic needs: survival, love and belonging, power, freedom, and fun.'</p><p>We never ask or choose who to have as parents and Aisha never wanted to be the daughter of time himself. Thus, she broke free and remained independent of his organisation; Tempus Autem Custos. However, one does not simply walk away from that life. And she remains in the protection of the Assassin Brotherhood from the Templar Order.<br/>That is, until London calls, bringing the Frye twins with her.<br/>Can she remain hidden from enemies who would use her and help the two assassins? Or will falling in love with a certain Rook cause her downfall?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One: Silent Running In One's Thoughts

 

  _ **Aisha Hawke ^^^**_

 

* * *

** Tempus: Weaver **

** Chapter One: **

** Silent Running In One’s Thoughts **

**_1868…_ **

**_London, England…_ **

Every organisation or cult have rules that bind its members to servitude. Reminds them of what their group stands for—believes in. Some are about not raising a blade to innocent souls or to not compromise the cult.

Four rules were familiar to her.

Rule Number One: _Equivalent Exchange. Something of equal value or greater must be exchanged for the desired outcome._

Rule Number Two: _Time is an irreversible process.  Once a reaction has been commenced it cannot be stopped until the process is complete._

Rule Number Three: _It was forbidden, and thus generally impossible, for agents to meet each other out of temporal sequence, and specifically prohibited an agent from meeting their former selves._

Rule Number Four: _An object from a non-existent timeline cannot be present in the current timeline._

They were the creed of the organisation she was more or less bound to no matter her opinion. Tempus Autem Custos. The Order of the Time Guardians.

They were an organisation that spanned across all forms of time and space. Ensuring the timeline continued without any hassle, anything harmful was eliminated. The order served Chronos—not to be confused with Cronus. God of Time and father to several children.

They were the Children of Time.

Basically in charge of the organisation stated earlier.

It was expected—your father was someone who could blink and three hundred years had pass, so it’s obvious you would serve him. But not all children wanted that life.

In fact, some just wanted to be free.

Aisha held out the cardigan in front of her, examining it closely. Seeing there were no other holes or tears and her stitching was perfect, she handed it back to Clara.

“It’s as good as new,” Aisha told her and rose from her seat, heading to the back room. Large rolls of fabrics were sprawled across multiple tables, mannequins with clothing or pins sticking out were against the walls, several antique silk Persian kermani rugs covered the floor.

“A delivery?” Clara guessed, following the fair-skinned woman. Aisha grabbed a bag hidden in a corner that was filled with clothes for Clara’s children. Hats, scarves, shirts, cardigans and other such items were sewn and stitched by her.

“Is it too heavy?” the copper haired woman asked, watching as Clara got a firm grip on the bag. “I could always ask Henry or Fredrick to bring it to you.”

Clara shook her head. “No need. Got it myself,” the young girl reassured her, heading out the back door with Aisha escorting her.

“All right, well I’ll see you later. And Clara?” Aisha called as the girl paused walking, glancing back at her. “Be careful. There are a lot of Blighters in the area.”

“Will do, Miss Hawke,” Clara called, heading down the alleyway and disappearing around a corner. Aisha stood there for a moment longer before sighing and heading back into the shop.

When the bell at the door rang, she headed out to the front expecting a customer. Only to find her close friend, Henry Green entering with a man and a woman behind him. By their outfits, she assumed they were part of the brotherhood.

“Aisha, how are you today?” he asked, smiling warmly as she rolled her eyes.

“I’ve been better,” she responded as a small group entered her shop. The red uniforms immediately gave way to their faction—Blighters. “Can I help you?”

“Mister Strain has extended a proposal for you,” the large, burly man with a rough goatee informed her, pushing past Henry and his friends and approaching the counter. “You pay us a certain amount of money each week and we’ll keep you and your shop safe from harm.”

Aisha’s lips curled in disgust. “Pay you for something I don’t require or don’t pay you and you trash my shop. My, the choices you’ve given me,” she stated in a dry tone.

“It’s a generous offer made by Mister Strain,” he said, bringing his face closer to hers. If he expected her to shrink back, he was sorely mistaken as her green eyes narrowed. “One I suggest you take.”

“The lady said no,” Henry’s male friend called, grabbing their attention. “So I suggest you leave before I make you. And I _really_ hope that you do.”

Perhaps the gangster actually had a brain or he preferred to not get his hands dirty. Either way, he stepped back and re-joined his friends as they headed towards the door.

“Think about it, Miss Hawke. Mister Strain isn’t a patient man,” he called before leaving the small shop.

“Show me someone who isn’t,” Aisha grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. “So, what’d you want to see me for?”

Henry refused to move past the topic. “Aisha, they’ll be back and won’t be so lenient next time,” he warned her but she waved it off.

“I’ll be fine. Thanks for helping though,” she nodded to the man who nodded back. “And you two are…?”

“Evie and Jacob Frye,” the woman stepped up, introducing her and her associate with a familiar English politeness. “We’re associates of Mister Green.”

Aisha found it amusing that she was trying to hide the fact that the two of them were assassins.

“Is that what you English call assassins then?” she joked, Henry rolling his eyes at her words while Evie seemed surprised. Jacob however, smirked at her.

“She’s clever than she looks,” Jacob commented and she smiled in reply, subtly flicking her fingers underneath her other arm. Both Jacob and Evie stopped moving, standing frozen while Henry remained unharmed.

“So…your new friends,” Aisha started, gesturing to them.

“The council has sent these two to assist me in removing the Templars from the city. I wanted to introduce you to them as an associate,” Henry explained calmly while she raised a brow. “They only know that you act as an information broker.”

“Should keep things interesting for a while,” she commented, moving a strand of her hair behind her ear. It wasn’t hard to see the worry in Henry’s eyes and she sighed. “I’m a little hurt that you would have no faith in me.”

“I worry about you sometimes. Is that wrong for a friend to fear the safety of his dear friend?” Henry argued back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No but you know me. I won’t be pushed around by some brute. And if things get too bad, then you’ll just have to send these two to help me.”

Henry shook his head, exhaling slowly as he knew she wouldn’t budge on the matter. Seeing his two associates still frozen, he gave her an expectant look.

Pursing her lips, she moved her hand slightly and the assassins began moving again—completely unaware of the conversation that just happened.

“Mister Green informs us that you are able to supply items,” Evie began and Jacob interrupted her.

He leaned against the counter, staring directly into her eyes. “Outfits and armour fit for a gang.”

“And what gang is that?” Aisha asked, glancing at Henry for a second before turning back to Jacob. “The newly christened Rooks?”

“You are better than Greenie says,” he commented and she smirked a little, pride swelling in her chest.

“Nothing gets past me in this city. I can assure you,” she said, stepping away and heading to the back room. Having an idea for colour schemes, she grabbed two small roles of fabrics and brought them out. “If you want to be a thorn in the Blighters sides and be loved by the people.”

She dumped dark green and yellow roles of fabric onto the counter-top.

“Then you need colours and a symbol that’ll be recognised,” she explained, putting a hand on each of the roles. “Yellow for the hope, idealism and friendship. Green for vigor, good luck and service.”

Jacob nodded, seeming to follow her vision as Evie stepped up to stand by his side, studying the roles of fabric.

“How much will this cost us?” Evie inquired but Aisha waved it off. “I don’t mean to deny your generosity, but we can’t let you give them for free.”

Aisha gave an un-ladylike snort as she grabbed a piece of paper and her quill from under the counter. “Who says it’s for free? You get your gang outfitted and protected by me and in turn, keep my shop safe,” she bargained, quickly sketching a design.

“And everybody wins,” Jacob added. Henry and Evie soon left the shop, having some business to take care of whilst she and Jacob continued to work. He offered ideas and she drew his suggestions.

Finally, after a few discussions, came up with the symbol of the Rooks.

A rook clutching a chess piece with its talons. The chess piece was a knight with a Templar cross in the middle—a direct message to the Templars. This symbolised the Assassin’s and extending the goal of getting rid of them from the city.

“Send in your men for measurements and I’ll get to work,” Aisha said, gathering her things and heading to the back room. Jacob followed, seeming curious about the seamstress.

“So how do you know the order?” he asked, leaning in the doorway.

“Through family,” she answered, putting the designs in a book and putting it back on the shelf. “And your cause is a just one—fighting for free will.”

“How long have you been in London?”

She paused, turning to raise a brow at him. “I wasn’t aware that this was an interrogation, Mister Frye.”

“A beautiful seamstress who seems to know a lot about what goes on in this city within five minutes,” he listed off, sounding a little impressed when saying it out loud. “How does that happen?”

“Riddle me that,” she responded, hearing the bell chime. “Leather will have to work for now but come and see me in two days and I’ll have the basics provided. I trust you can see yourself out.”

He chuckled as she strode past.

**oOo**

**_Two Days Later…_ **

She was sorting out some orders when red was spotted in the corner of her eye. Glancing up from her work, she watched as the same group of Blighters from the other day strode towards her shop.

 _I cannot deal with this right now,_ she thought, pressing her lips together. As soon as they barged in and walked a fair bit into the shop, she froze them. Seeing as they weren’t moving, she resumed her earlier work.

Just as she finished filing the orders, a flash of green caught her eye and she quickly unfroze them. The Blighters resumed marching towards her until they stood right at the front desk.

Aisha continued to ignore them until a hand was slammed onto the wood. Pausing, she put the quill down and merely glanced up. The burly man from last time seemed to be back.

“Mister Strain wants an answer missy. Now pay up before things get out of hand,” the man smirked, assuming he had won. When the bell chimed, announcing the arrival of the Rooks, Aisha wore her own smirk.

“My apologises but I am paying another gang to protect my shop,” she informed him politely, gesturing to Jacob and the small band of Rooks that had entered. “Mister Frye. If you and your people could escort them out.”

Seeing they were outnumbered, the Blighters left—not without swearing and cursing. When it was just the Rooks left, Aisha got straight to work by taking measurements and issuing out uniforms and armour.

“The rest are in the back,” she informed two men who followed her directions and went to retrieve the large sacks full of clothes. “So, a train huh?”

Jacob shook his head. “Greenie was right to call you an ally. That only happened about an hour ago,” the assassin said in disbelief and she flashed him a grin.

“I’d be a terrible information broker if I wasn’t kept up to date with events,” she responded as the two men walked past, carrying the sacks. Jacob ordered them to take it to the train, leaving them in the shop.

As she was putting away her ledger, she felt a pair of eyes on her. Turning, she noticed him observing her quietly as he leaned against the counter.

“Paint a picture. It’ll last longer,” she quipped and he sighed dramatically.

“Alas, I’m not much of a painter. My skills are better use elsewhere,” Jacob informed her in a serious tone. Had it not been for the mischievous glint in his eyes, she probably thought it were true.

“Oh?” she raised a brow, crossing her arms over her chest. “And pray tell what they may be?”

“I’m handy in a fight and an excellent dancer,” he leaned forward a little more. Her lips twitched and she opened her mouth to retort when a chirp grabbed her attention. Immediately, she headed out the back, past the workshop and into a smaller room, making a beeline to the window. There she found a small white dove birched itself on the wooden stand.

Gently, she removed the small note attached to its leg and unscrolled it.

**_Get Starrick’s Soothing Syrup—On sale._ **

_I’ll have to check the mirror later,_ Aisha thought, hearing Jacob’s footsteps enter the small room.

“Is that how you get your information? From birds?” he asked, a little sarcastically in her opinion. Seeing the note removed, the dove hopped over to the bowl of seeds left nearby.

“This is just one form. There are others,” she murmured, moving to a nearby candle and destroying the small paper with flames. Her green eyes watched the flames dance for a moment before quickly inhaling and turning to Jacob. “If your men have any trouble with their uniforms or you require more, then let me know.”

He stared at her for a moment before bowing his head slightly and brushing past. When she heard the front door close, the bell informing her that she was alone, Aisha released the breath she had been holding.

 _Focus. Check the mirror,_ she reminded herself, leaving the small room and headed upstairs. Upon entering her bedroom, her gaze shifted to the rectangular mirror hanging on the wall. It had a silver frame, simple and yet elegant.

Approaching it, her reflection stared back at her.

“Show me Starrick’s Soothing Syrup operations,” she said quietly. Her reflection disappeared, a moving image replacing it. She watched as several people complained to a peddler about the syrup. “Show me the victims of Starrick’s Soothing Syrup.”

The image shimmered, showing individuals who seemed to exhibit signs of hallucinations, spacing out and resembling zombies. Aisha swallowed her disgust as the images disappeared, her reflection in the mirror once again.

The mirror never lied.

It was a gift from her father, back when she was young and declared that she wanted nothing to do with his organisation. That she wanted to have a life of her own. He granted her that—albeit a little reluctantly—and informed her that the mirror would guide her where he could not. However, it would only show the past and present. Never the future.

Her mind whirled at the information and she began to pace. A medicine like that had to have ingredients that would cause such side-effects. How the police have not intervened was beyond her understanding.

 _But then again, this is has Starrick’s name written on it—literally. This needs to be dealt with,_ she paused, remembering the two assassins that had arrived to London. Evie seemed more preoccupied with tracking down Pieces of Eden so that left Jacob.

Nodding to herself, she left to make preparations.

* * *

**Songs: Silent Running from the AC:Syndicate trailer. Lost In One's Thoughts from AmaLee on Youtube**

 


	2. Chapter Two: Towards The Sun and Hurricane

** Chapter Two: **

** Towards The Sun And Hurricane **

 

**_The Next Day…_ **

**_Starrick’s Soothing Syrup Distillation Building…_ **

She observed quietly from across the street, her light grey hood covering her head. After giving information and directions for where Jacob could start taking down Starrick, she had adorned her own assassin-looking robes and quietly followed Jacob. One inspired by Lady Melyne’s gown.

Maybe it was because she hardly knew him, but she wanted to ensure her information was not being wasted. Jacob seemed like a reckless one and she’s dealt with enough in her long life to know if a plan was at risk of being botched.

Although, with Mister Darwin present, there was a high chance of success.

 _So far so good,_ she thought, leaning against the brick wall, arms crossed. _Perhaps he’s qualified to—_

Multiple explosions interrupted her thoughts. Standing up straight, her eyes widened at the sight of windows being shattered, fire leaking out and the smoke pooling into the sky.

“Or not,” she muttered, spotting a figure leaping from a small window and into a hay stack. Shaking her head, she stalked over towards him just as Charles approached him and shook his hand. “By the show you put on I can assume the production has stopped?”

Jacob seemed surprised to hear her voice, giving her a look over. “How did you—”

“Ah Miss Hawke, a pleasure to see you,” Charles beamed at the sight of the familiar cloaked woman. His attention was turned back onto Jacob as he held up a small book. “While you were busy wreaking havoc, I found this. It indicates that a sample of every batch has been sent to Lambeth Asylum.”

Aisha slowly nodded, tapping her fingers to her chin lightly. “Makes sense. The asylum itself is largely undocumented—records of treatments are vague,” she informed them.

“I wonder if it’s visiting hours,” Jacob commented and Charles chuckled a little.

“Don’t be so hasty, Mister Frye,” the geologist cautioned. “Many people work at Lambeth; you wouldn’t want to attract unwanted attention.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Charles sighed. “Not every problem can be solved by blowing things sky high. Sometimes a little discretion is in order.”

Aisha snorted a little at the irony of the man’s words. Jacob shot her a look as she smirked.

“It’s getting late,” Charles suddenly noted, lightly patting Jacob’s arm and heading off. “I will meet you at the asylum to continue our investigation. Miss Hawke.”

“Mister Charles,” she bowed her head, watching him march off for a moment. She felt a certain pair of eyes on her and she faced him, putting a hand on her hip. “What? You can’t be _that_ surprised.”

“True. Forgive me for assuming Greenie’s little informant was a helpless seamstress,” he held up his hands in defense and she rolled her eyes. “So, Miss Hawke, are those robes for show or can you actually fight?”

“I have training. I just choose not to use it,” she responded, gesturing for him to follow her as they walked down the street. “Before you head off to the asylum, you’ll need some better robes.”

“What’s wrong with these?” Jacob asked, sounding a little offended and she gave him a side-ways glance, eyebrow raised.

“You’re in London now. And when in Rome, do as the Romans do,” she quoted as they headed towards her shop. When they had arrived, she brought him to the two mannequins with an outfit on each. One for Jacob and one for Evie.

As Jacob approached his, she grabbed the black top hat with a red sash around it that she had designed and crafted to go with the new robes.

“Here. It replaces that hideous cap,” she handed it to him and left him to get changed. Making her way upstairs, she entered her office and searched the Lambeth book. It had notes about anything and everything to do with the borough Lambeth.

As she opened it up and began skimming through street layouts, hidden passages and police locations, footsteps entered the room. Aisha glanced up briefly and then did a double take.

Jacob strode in, fixing his bracer. The outfit hugged him nicely, the dark brown and black mixed leather coat still carried the assassin style. He noticed her staring and raised a brow, smirking.

“Like what you see?” he asked as she snapped out it.

“How does it feel? Does it fit?” she asked, quickly glancing back down at the book in an effort to still her beating heart.

“Fits like a glove. I suppose the other one is for Evie?”

“Unless you fancy putting them on yourself,” she responded, putting the book down and pulling out a sketch of the Lambeth Asylum blueprints. The male assassin stood beside her, gazing at it as they went over the layout, possible escape routes, location of inmates etc.

By the time she had finished giving him the information, it was mid-afternoon.

Jacob stood to leave when he paused. “Do you know a man named Ned Wynert?” he asked as she tidied up the mess they had made.

Aisha frowned a little, briefly recalling the name. Aleck had mentioned someone by that name once. She hadn’t done a full scale investigation on them as she does with everyone else, but perhaps…

She pulled out a book with last names starting from T-Z. Flipping through, she eventually found a small section titled ‘Ned Wynert.’

“A businessman from the United States,” Aisha read. “Uses transit systems to cover the criminal activities he engages. Robs multiple shipments entering London of their valuables such as cloth, chemicals and metals. Operates in Southwark.”

Jacob narrowed his eyes. “So a thief in a suit waltzed onto my train. Wonderful.”

“I wouldn’t dismiss him. In the past there was always three factions that were allies to the brotherhood,” Aisha reminded him, closing the book and replacing it back onto the shelf. “Prostitutes, mercenaries and thieves.”

“Aren’t you smart,” he commented and she rolled her eyes.

“If Ned bothers you that much, I can look into him more,” she offered and remembered something. Grabbing a small envelope, she handed it to him. “Give that and the robes to your sister.”

He took it, stuffing it into his pocket and headed towards the door. “Are you joining me?” he called, pausing in the doorway.

“I believe you’re more than capable of tracking down a link with Mister Darwin. Besides, I’m a helpless seamstress remember?” she reminded him with a smirk and he chuckled, ducking out.

**oOo**

**_Mid-Afternoon…_ **

Evie stopped by the shop, wearing the robes Jacob had given her, with a smile on her face.

“Your information was better than I had hoped,” Evie beamed, approaching the desk as Aisha took care of the book-side of her shop. Writing down income, taxes, other financial issues. “And thank you for the robes.”

“I’m glad you like them. I ensured there was extra pockets for any additional knives, smoke bombs and bullets,” the brunette informed her, marking the date at the top of the page and closing the book. “But I’m sure you didn’t come here just to see me.”

Evie’s eyes shifted away slightly. “How is Jacob’s mission going?” she asked quietly and Aisha smiled to herself.

She was well aware of the small rift between the twins. Jacob’s desire to take down Starrick as soon as possible clashed with Evie’s search of the Piece of Eden. How the young woman found it a bigger priority over forming a gang.

“He’s got his target and all possible routes inside the asylum. I’ve ensured he’s armed with as much information as I can. The rest is up to him,” Aisha answered candidly, putting the quill down.

“I…thank you, Miss Hawke,” Evie swallowed and her eyes softened.

“Call me Aisha. There’s no need for the miss,” she asserted, smiling warmly at the young woman. Evie smiled back and left the shop. As Henry was going to drop by later, Aisha finished her work, closed the shop and headed to her bedroom.

Picking up the mirror, she moved it to her office and changed into her robes. It was a precaution—in case something happened and she needed to head to the asylum herself.

“Is everything ready?” Henry asked, stepping into the office and closing the door behind him. Aisha closed all the curtains and stood in front of the mirror.

“Show me Jacob Frye’s current whereabouts,” she ordered and the mirror’s image shimmered, presenting Jacob outside of the asylum gates with Charles Darwin.

“ _—Please do call on me_ ,” Charles said before departing, whistling a happy tune along the way. Just as Charles disappeared down the street, the image rapidly changed to another.

Crawford Starrick.

“ _—There’s nothing we can do,”_ Cletus Strain informed them bitterly. Henry rose and stood beside her as they watched. “ _Before my men could get in, those fuckin’ Rooks come in. The shop’s protected by them.”_

“ _You’re saying the only thing standing between me and Miss Hawke, are some insignificant gang members?”_ Crawford Starrick asked him apathetically, stirring his tea. He put the spoon down, staring at the gang leader. “ _Do you fail to understand how simple of a job this is?”_

“ _I do understand—”_

 _“No you don’t!”_ Crawford slammed his hand on the desk, standing up and glaring at him. “ _There is a child of Chronos here in the city and all I ask is that you bring her to me. If there are people in your way, then get rid of them!”_

Cletus bowed his head. “ _Yes, Mister Starrick,”_ he responded, quickly leaving the office. When the door closed, the image disappeared and returned to Jacob scaling a wall.

“Aisha you need to leave. We can’t let you fall into the Templars hands,” Henry insisted, caution weeping in his voice as clear as day.

“Where will I go? I can’t just pick up everything and leave. My shop is here!” Aisha exclaimed, moving away from the mirror and peeking out the window. Her eyes swepted the streets below, looking for any signs of red.

“Move to my shop. Your network and your birds are familiar enough with it.”

She glanced back, finding him standing tall with his gaze firmly on her. “But what about you? Where will you operate from?”

“Miss Frye’s train. I’ve been staying there frequently to assist them.”

Her eyes looked over the mirror, finding Jacob observing his target, John Elliotson. A pinch of jealousy hit her—how he was untroubled by the constant hunt for her.

“Fine. But only until I locate a better safe house,” she bargained, leaving Henry to watch Jacob as she went to pack the essentials. Henry soon joined, calling on some Rooks who operated nearby to assist in moving boxes.

While they were busy piling things into a carriage—the mirror included—Aisha went to the aviary and began pouring perfume all around the cage, nearby trees and window sills. This would ensure that her birds didn’t come here and cut off the possibility of any information ending up in the wrong hands.

“It’s time to go,” Henry called as she dumped the bottle onto the ground. Following him, they ran through the alleyway and climbed up a nearby building.

“The carriage has left?” she asked and he nodded.

“They know what to do with it. In the meanwhile, I want you on the train for tonight where I know you will be safe,” Henry asserted, leaving no room for arguments.

Aisha nodded, seeing no use in fighting and followed him to the train station.

Evie had been surprised to see her with Henry, but after explaining that the Templars had discovered her—leaving out major details—Evie was more than happy to allow her to stay the night.

“Will your shop be all right?” the assassin asked, her brows furrowed a little.

“I doubt it will be left intact,” Aisha sighed, shaking her head. “I’ll be operating from Henry’s shop until I can locate a new safe house.”

Evie gave her a gentle smile. “Stay as long as you like. Think of it as returning the favour for all of the help you’ve given us,” she said as Aisha yawned. She informed her that she could take Jacob’s bed and Aisha bid them all a good night.

After finding it, she climbed under the cover and immediately smelt his scent. Breathing in, sweat, smoke and some masculine musk hit her senses like a train. And for some strange reason, she found it comforting.

Her eyes grew heavy and she closed them.

* * *

**Songs: Towards The Sun by Rihanna and Hurricane by Bridgit Mendler**

 


	3. Chapter Three - The Mirror Is Irresistible

** Chapter Three: **

** The Mirror Is Irresistible **

**_A Month Later…_ **

She stepped into the police station, weaving past policemen and others. As no one was taking an interest in her, she slipped past quietly and headed upstairs. Shouts and curses came from the next floor, where the holding was located.

Ignoring them, she knocked on a certain door and stepped. “You wanted to see me?”

“Aisha!” an American accent called, belonging to a certain blond male with long, shaggy hair chirped. His light blue eyes sparkled with excitement. She pinched the bridge between her eyes, shutting the door behind her.

“Why are you here Shaun?” she asked the agent who turned slightly in the chair, arm around the top.

“Because I was apparently ‘acting suspicious’,” Shaun answered, doing air quotations with his fingers.

“He got into a fight with some of the Rooks and Blighters,” Fredrick corrected tiredly and Shaun pulled a face. “Going around and asking for Miss Hawke was a stupid idea.”

“How was I supposed to know that?” the blond complained. “I’ve only just arrived—wait is it safe to talk about you-know-what with him?”

Aisha just opened the door and walked out. She headed back downstairs and out of the station as Shaun caught up, walking beside her.

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry okay? I didn’t know how to find you and the scanners couldn’t pick you up,” Shaun apologised as she turned a corner, intending to head back to her home in the Strand. She kept her shop in Lambeth, hiring another talented seamstress who was the front whilst she kept up her activities.

So far, she’s been able to dodge the Templars.

“That’s the point of not wanting to be found,” Aisha responded sharply, annoyed at the fact that an agent of her father’s organisation was there. It would have been worse if it were one of her siblings though. There was that silver lining.

A few Rook members nodded in greeting at her as she strode past. Some even glared at Shaun.

“Are you a gang leader now?” Shaun asked curiously, noticing the glares he was receiving and nods and smiles at Aisha.

“Why are you here Shaun?” she asked, pausing at a crossing as a series of carriages drove.

“Additional protection,” he answered simply and she rolled her eyes at that.

“I don’t need it. I’m fine on my own,” Aisha said dismissively, walking through the intersection as it cleared up a little. Shaun was nothing if not persistent and determined to complete his assignment. “I’ve been fine for the last four hundred years.”

“And in that time you’ve been kidnapped, tortured and other unspeakable things done to you,” he countered and she finally had enough. She flicked her hand beside her, marching off without looking back. It wasn’t something she should have done, but god did it feel good.

 _Richard probably sent him. He just never understood the concept of ‘stay out of my life’ has he?_ She fumed to herself. Her thoughts distracted her as she hadn’t noticed a certain assassin striding towards her until she literally ran into him.

“Careful love, you might run into someone dangerous,” Jacob smirked, steadying her as she was slammed out of her thoughts. He had been calling her that lately, ‘love’. He knew how much it annoyed her and yet continued to do so.

“I’ll be sure to keep an eye out then,” she muttered, brushing past him.

“What’s gotten you so cheery?” he asked, walking beside her as they drew closer to her home.

“Family issues,” Aisha answered shortly, walking a little faster as she arrived at her doorstep. Her hand held the door knob tightly, feeling his presence behind her. “Is there something else you need?”

“Information on Attaway Transport. That’s why I was heading here,” Jacob frowned and she realised her mistake.

“Right. Information. Come on in,” she apologised, opening the door and leading him to her office. With the twins helping her, Aisha managed to recover and transfer everything from her old office into her new one.

As she searched her notebooks containing information on transportation businesses, Jacob lounge on the couch. Eventually, she found what she was looking for.

“Attaway Transport is an omnibus company owned and established by Pearl Attaway. Attaway’s rival company, Millner Company is currently owned by Crawford Starrick,” she read, glancing at locations, schedules and other details that seemed important. Hearing a lack of commentary from the assassin, she glanced up and found him staring at her. “Jacob?”

“Are you…you don’t seem like yourself,” he commented and she gave a dry laugh, closing the book.

“Just have a lot on my mind,” she agreed, a little ambivalently.

She heard movement and watched as he approached her until he stood in front of the desk, making it the only thing that separated them.

“The Templars won’t get to you. I swear that they won’t come within even an inch,” Jacob vowed, locking eyes with her. She saw the sincerity, the promise held within and her heart fluttered. The brunette turned away, catching herself.

“Of course. Who else would give you solid, reliable information,” Aisha replied, grabbing the book and moving to put it back on the shelf.

“Well, there’s that,” Jacob agreed. “But it’s not just information that’s worth protecting.”

Her heart thudded.

**oOo**

The mirror showed Evie examining the necklace carefully. The older Frye twin had chased a lead at St Paul’s Cathedral and Aisha was observing. Taking a closer look, she noted that it was a precursor object.

“So we’re on the right track,” Aisha murmured quietly as Evie fastened it around her neck.

“ _Good day, Miss Frye. I’ll take that,”_ a voice startled the assassin. The mirror moved its view to show another woman had arrived. The brunette recognised her from her spying on Starrick—Lucy Thorne.

“ _You want the Shroud to cement your own power—but what if you cannot control it?”_ Evie asked Thorne, both of them circling each other warily.

Lucy’s lips twitched a little. “ _We have a plan for such an occurrence. And why do you want the Shroud? Merely to keep the Templars from having it. How like an Assassin—to hold the power of eternal life, and yet be too afraid to use it.”_

_“Eternal life? Is that what you think the Shroud offers?”_

_“What I think is no longer your concern,”_ Lucy sniped before attacking Evie. The assassin countered all of Thorne’s attacks as they both scrambled in such a small room. Aisha turned away just as Evie cut the necklace and Henry strode into the room.

“I’ve found something that might interest—Is that Miss Frye?” he paused, glancing at the mirror, showing the frustration on the female assassin’s face. Aisha raised a hand towards the mirror, returning it to its dormant state. “I take it that the mission didn’t go so well.”

“Mixed results but I’m sure Evie will fill you in,” she responded, moving strands of her hair out of her face. Crossing her arms, she looked at her friend expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

“I acquired a transcript written in an ancient language. I had hoped you could translate it,” Henry explained, showing her a small folder full of papers with ancient writing inked onto them.

Taking them, her eyes scanned the pages and recognised it. Luckily, it was one she was well versed in.

“It’s ancient Greek,” she informed him, taking a moment to read what was in front of her. As the information poured into her head, her brows furrowed deeply. “It couldn’t be…”

“Aisha?” Henry called her name as she put the stack of papers down and grabbed a book from a shelf. Throwing it open and skimming through the pages, the connection became clear. All the dots finally had some lines attaching them to each other.

“Henry, you wonderful man! Do you know what you just did?” she exclaimed, putting the book next to the papers and pointed at them. “Do you remember the myth of a golden fleece in Greek mythology?”

“Briefly. It was a symbol of power,” the dark-skinned assassin answered and she pointed at him.

“Exactly! But it _wasn’t_ a golden fleece at all! And what you’ve brought to me _and_ watching Evie just confirmed my theories,” she explained animatedly, her eyes lighting up at the discovery. “It’s actually a Piece of Eden but a cloth form of it.”

“Hence where the golden fleece idea came from.”

Aisha nodded, agreeing with him and glancing at the mirror. “Show the altercation between Evie Frye and Lucy Thorne at St Paul’s Cathedral.”

Henry watched and listened, hearing the word ‘Shroud’ pass through Lucy’s lips. When the mirror paused on Evie’s frustrated look, he looked towards her for more of an explanation.

“The Shroud is capable of restoration and healing. The Brotherhood and the Templars have been battling for it for centuries. The first solid evidence of its existence was sometime in 42 BC. A few members of the order tried to use it to resurrect Brutus,” Aisha informed him, recalling information she had long discovered. Back when she was fresh and the world seemed brighter.

“However, it failed,” a voice called, catching their attention. Shaun appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. “No big surprise there.”

Aisha pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling a little slowly as Henry shot him a wary look.

“You must be Henry Green. Pleasure to meet you,” Shaun grinned, walking over and shaking his hand, patting his shoulder with the other. “Shaun Elder, at your service. I’m here on duty to protect her.”

“Against my will,” she couldn’t help but comment, sighing a little at the look of confusion on her friend’s face. “He’s a Tempus agent.”

“Well then, I am happy to have any assistance,” Henry said politely, pulling his hand away. “You know about the Shroud I take it?”

“Know about it? I’ve studied everything and anything about Pieces of Eden,” Shaun declared, leaving any sense of humble behind as he began explaining in great detail about the Shroud.

Aisha went to shut the door when she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Evie rounded the corner and flinched a little when she saw the brunette standing in the middle of the hallway.

“Evie? Is your neck all right?” she asked, loudly enough to signal to the men to halt their conversation. It wasn’t for the assassin’s ears.

As if being reminded, she rubbed it a little. “I’m fine. Do you know where Lucy has taken the necklace?” she inquired but Aisha shook her head. She opened her mouth comment when Evie heard Henry’s voice.

Aisha didn’t stop her as the assassin barged past and entered the study, choosing to rub her face for a moment before following after her. Evie didn’t seem to know what to make of Shaun who beamed at her all knowingly. He looked past and quirked a brow, probably wondering how she was going to explain his presence.

She narrowed her eyes. “Evie meet my cousin from America,” Aisha finally spoke as Shaun introduced himself. Wanting that over and done with as quickly as possible, the seamstress steered her onto the topic they were discussing earlier; The Stroud.

Obviously, leaving out many details about how two of them knew so much about it.

“The Templars want immortality. That’s why they’re after the Shroud,” Evie concluded, lip curling up slightly in disgust. “They won’t stop at nothing until they obtain it. Do you know it’s current location?”

“Not yet. I’ll do some digging but in the meantime, Aleck needs your help with something,” she told her, unclear on the details herself. He probably needs a guinea pig for some new invention of his.

When Evie excused herself to go see the inventor, Aisha noticed the smirk Shaun was throwing her way.

“What?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

“As your cousin, does this mean I’m staying?”

* * *

 **Songs: Mirror by Ellie Goulding and Irresistible by Fall Out By ft. Demi Lovato.**   

 


	4. Chapter Four: I Was Here Again

** Chapter Four: **

** I Was Here Again **

**_A Week Later…_ **

She had been getting increasingly concerned with the reports she was receiving. Since the murder of John Elliotson, the asylum in Lambeth was being forced to shut down. At the same time, an alarming increase in counterfeit tonics being distributed caught her attention.

Aisha hadn’t been as affected—getting her medicine from a steady supplier—but she knew Clara and the children would.

As she adorned her cloak, striding past Shaun’s room, the agent poked his head out, watching her leave.

“Where are you off to?” he asked, stepping out as she paused.

“To check on something. Stay here and guard the place,” she ordered, freezing him for good measure before quickly leaving her house. Raising her hood to cover her face, Aisha slowly made her way towards the asylum.

Reports indicated that supplies meant for her contact were being stolen and sold on auctions and the black market. This allowed fake tonics to be sold and endangered many lives.

 _Elliotson must have been able to shut down any attempts before. Why did I not anticipate this happening?_ Aisha turned a corner and ran into a familiar face. “Evie? What are you doing here?”

“I came to check on the asylum since I heard it was closing. What about you?” she asked, seeming curious about the information broker’s presence. Aisha opened her mouth the answer when she spotted Clara, leaning against the wall, chest heaving a little.

“Clara!” Aisha called, jogging up to the young girl with Evie following behind.

Clara looked up, forcing a smile. “Miss Hawke, Miss Frye, what a pleasant surprise,” she greeted but the copper haired seamstress didn’t like how pale she looked.

“Hello Clara. What bring you here?” Evie questioned the young girl, smiling down at her.

“The children in my care have been falling ill. Our usual tonics aren’t working. I came to—” she paused, coughing quite deeply. Evie shot her a look of concern just as Aisha noticed her legs buckling.

Reaching out, she quickly grabbed her as Clara faint in her arms. Placing a hand on her forehead, Aisha’s brows furrowed. The poor girl was running a fever.

The door behind her opened, revealing just the woman she was coming to meet.

Florence took one look of the sick child in her arms. “Bring her inside,” the nurse ordered. Aisha carried her to a nearby padded bench and stepped back, allowing Florence to do her magic. “She simply collapsed.”

“Yes,” Evie answered, looking over at Clara worriedly. “She said the others took tonic but it didn’t work.”

“There are counterfeit tonics being sold and supplies are stolen. No doubt the children have been buying the fake ones,” Aisha informed the assassin as the nurse hummed in agreement.

“Ever since Elliotson was murdered, the district has been overrun with these counterfeit tonics,” Florence added, grabbing Clara’s hand and taking her temperature. Her brows furrowed, obviously displeased. “This one needs proper care, but without the appropriate medication, she and the others will quickly decline.”

“What do you need?” Evie asked and the nurse exchanged a look with her. Giving a small nod, Florence quickly listed everything she needed. After informing Evie where the locations of the stolen supplies are being kept, the assassin was out the door.

“I’ll have people ensure the supplies arrive unharmed, Florence,” Aisha promised and the nurse sighed, patting Clara’s hand lightly.

“Thank you, Aisha. But I’m afraid this won’t be the last of it. Until the counterfeits are gone, children like Clara won’t be able to access proper medication,” the nurse lamented, causing her to purse her lips. She wanted to help her in any way she could. But nothing had come to mind. Not yet anyway.

Instead, all she could offer was this, “Evie will be back in time. I promise you this at least.”

**oOo**

**_A Few Days Later…_ **

_Arms bound behind her back. The rope was tied to tight, that it pressed deeply into her skin. Sweat dripping down the back of her neck, exhaustion stopping her from fighting back._

_Footsteps herald more pain until they stopped right in front of her. She barely looked up, already anticipating the assault that was no doubt coming. It would be the same song and dance. They wanted her power, her secrets and she refused to give them. Then the pain would come. And then the demands for her power. Wash, rinse and repeat until night came or they tired themselves out._

_“Where is the Piece of Eden?”_

_This one was new._

_“I don’t know,” she answered bitterly, slowing raising her head to glare at her torturer. “And even if I did. I would **never** tell you.”_

_His eyes flashed in anger._

Aisha woke up with a start. Gasping for air, she sat up, gulping down and trying to shake off the nightmare. Heart pounding away in her chest, she swallowed hard, trying to distract herself.

Hearing a chirp from her window, she climbed out of her bed and walked over. Sitting in the window sill was one of her messenger doves. Grabbing the note attach to its leg, she watched as it flew to the aviary.

**_Pearl and Starrick are cousins._ **

Her eyes widened, re-reading the sentence three times before the information sank in. Then the confusion settled. If Pearl was a cousin of Starrick, why would he try to run her out of business? Surely, family helps family.

 _I better check this before telling Jacob,_ she decided, quickly adorning her robes and headed downstairs. As she was about to head out the front door, she ran into the male twin.

“Aisha, where’s your cousin?” he asked, and it took her a couple of seconds to remember her ‘cousin’.

“Shaun’s with Henry at his shop. Something about translating a text he had found,” she said, stepping away. She needed to track down Millner and question him. If anyone knew about this, it’d be the rival. “I’m sorry but I have to go. There’s a lead I need to check out.”

Jacob frowned. “Do you need back up?” he asked and she shook her head.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll see you later,” she waved, turning to run down the street. She tracked Millner at his warehouse where the last shipment he owned was kept. Jacob had done a great deal of damage against the man, something he was not happy with.

Pressing herself against a brick wall, she observed the number of Blighter members working as guards. Recalling the blueprint of the warehouse, she scaled the wall and climbed onto the roof. Heading towards an open window, her ears picked up Millner’s frantic voice.

“N-No Mister Starrick! Please, give time to recover everything!” the man pleaded and she quietly slipped in. Millner didn’t hear, to preoccupied with his phone call which didn’t seemed to be going his way. “…Yes. Yes, Mister Starrick. Thank you again.”

She waited until he hung up before speaking. “Pearl Attaway and Crawford Starrick. Are they related?” she asked and he flinched, spinning around and locking eyes.

His eyes widened, surprised to see her. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded and she froze his body. “What the hell have you done?!”

“If you want to keep your body intact, then answer the question. Are Pearl Attaway and Crawford Starrick cousins?” Aisha inquired, her patience wearing thin. Not to mention, the chance of those goons catching her.

He nodded and she climbed back out the window. “Release me! You got your answer now let me go!”

“Thank you for your co-operation,” Aisha responded sarcastically, unfreezing him and scaled down. In her error, she had assumed her little trick would frighten Millner enough from doing anything in retaliation. Unfortunately, he followed and shouted for the guards to capture her.

“Shit,” she cursed, dropping down as a few armed Blighter’s appeared. A few carried knives and others guns. Steeling herself, she began to fight them off. Throwing some onto the ground, using others as shields from the bullets.

Just as she dispatched the last one, something hit her hard in the back of her head. Searing pain and the element of surprise caused her to cry out and her knees buckled. Collapsing onto the ground, hands grabbed her arms, the feeling of something tying her hands together behind her back.

The last thing she saw was Millner smirking in front before she blacked out.

**oOo**

**_That Evening…_ **

“Aisha! I’m back!” Shaun called out, stepping into the closed shop with Henry in tow. They had discovered something interesting and, knowing how much the seamstress thrived on knowledge, wanted to tell her. When he was met with silence, the blond tensed.

“Aisha?” he called again, running up the stairs. He checked her bedroom and her office, finding no sign of her. His gut was telling him that something was wrong. “She’s not here.”

Henry frowned. “Did she mention going somewhere today?” he asked and Shaun shook his head. “I don’t like this.”

“Neither do I,” he muttered, punching in a few commands into his Verbatim and the room was soon bathed in blue light. It scanned and then projected a holographic image of the last time Aisha was in the shop.

If Henry was shocked at the futuristic technology, he said nothing as they watched her rush out of the shop in her robes. Robes she only wore when she was on a mission. He fasts forward it but she never came back.

“She left this morning and hasn’t been back since,” Shaun informed the dark skinned assassin. Turning away from Henry, the blond furiously hurried connected to his handler, Dean. When he heard the Irish accent, he began reporting. “I’ve got shit news. Aisha’s gone.”

“ _You’re supposed to keep an eye on her! What the hell do you mean she’s gone?”_ Dean snapped, his voice echoing across the shop. Henry’s eyes widened, staring at the seemingly leather brace that was somehow projecting a voice. A very angry voice at that one.

“She’s not at her house and scan shows she left this morning and hasn’t returned,” Shaun explained, frustration slowly leaking out. “Can you scan for her?”

Dean snorted. “ _Uh no you bloody dope. She doesn’t show up on the radars. Best I can tell, she’s still in London somewhere.”_

Henry pursed his lips. “What about her mirror? Can we not use that to find her?” he suggested but Shaun shook his head.

“ _Only those who carry Chronos’s blood may wield artifacts such as Aisha’s mirror,”_ Dean explained, seeming annoyed at that little rule. Sure, it stopped rogue agents from time to time accessing such powerful artifacts. But in situations like these? It only hindered everyone.

An idea came to Shaun as he remembered one sibling of Aisha’s whom the copper haired woman more or less had tolerated. In fact, it was her _only_ sibling she actually treated as one rather than a nuisance.

“Dean, is Nina clear for me to grab?” he questioned, knowing full well his partner would understand his meaning of ‘grab’. There was a tense silence, both men looking at each other, waiting before finally an answer came.

“ _Aye, she’s fine. Explain the situation and I’ll make sure everything’s clean.”_

**oOo**

**_Davenport Homestead…_ **

**_March, 1752…_ **

Carefully, she brought the tray out of the oven, steam rising from it. Slowly, she turned around and gently placed it onto the bench. The smell of cinnamon and apple rushed through her nose, mouth beginning to water.

 _No! No eating the pie. It’s too hot,_ the blonde reminded herself, wiping her hands on the apron. Covering it with a small cloth, she untied the apron from around her waist just as Achilles and Adéwalé walked in.

“Adéwalé!” Nina beamed, walking over and enveloping the elderly man into a tight hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

“And you as well, Nina,” he chuckled, pulling back and gazing at her warmly. “You haven’t changed at all.”

“You sound almost disappointed,” she quipped and noticed Achilles sniffing the air. “The apple pie will be ready soon. Give it a couple of minutes to cool down.”

“Looking after the them as usual, I see. I remember when it was us eating your cooking,” the former slave reminisced fondly. She smiled as well, remembering the days spent on the _Jackdaw_.

“Yes, well, if it weren’t for Hope, it would feel as if I were back on the _Jackdaw_ , surrounded by you lot,” she teased, earning chuckles from both men. “Now, is this a social call or is there something wrong?”

The amusement was gone instantly, both men turning serious.

“The Templars stole two precious artifacts,” Achilles informed her as she crossed her arms over her chest. “A manuscript of ancient wisdom, and a box that allows one to understand its language.”

“I have tracked them both to these coasts but their exact location is still unknown to me. But, you might have a better chance at narrowing down the search,” Adéwalé said, giving her a meaningful look. At once, Nina understood what was being asked of her.

“I’ll try and see what I can dig up…” she trailed off, spotting a blond male striding into the kitchen. She didn’t recognise him as any of the assassins stationed here. So it only meant one thing. “Tempus?”

He nodded, startling the two men who didn’t even hear him. “Name’s Shaun. I need you to come with me. Preferably now,” he responded, reaching out to grab her when Adéwalé stood in front.

“Adéwalé it’s okay. He’s one of _them_ ,” Nina reassured, stepping around the large male, locking blue eyes with the agent’s. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Aisha,” he said and her eyes widened. “I need you to access her mirror.”

“All right. Let’s go,” she gestured for him to go and turned back to Achilles. “I’ll be back in a second. Literally.”

A warm hand was pressed onto her shoulder as Adéwalé stared down at her, concern filling his gaze.

“Be careful, Nina,” he advised and she nodded, squeezing his hand.

“I always am,” she replied, turning and following the agent. He lead them into the basement where a door had been constructed into the wall. Opening it, showed an office on the other side. “So what’s going on?”

“Templars have got your sister and because she’s stubbornly able to evade our sensors, we can’t track her. Best we can come up with is that she’s still in London,” Shaun explained as they stepped through. The door closed itself and disappeared, sealing the small rift between the two times.

Nina quickly looked around at what appeared to be an office. Bookshelves stacked with books all around, a large desk, a lovely Persian carpet covering the floor, a couch against a wall. A few wooden drawers and a mirror in the middle.

“She’s very organised,” Nina commented, looking at Shaun. “How far into the future am I?”

“1868,” he answered as the door slammed open. A male with dark brown hair wearing obviously this era’s concept of assassin robes, marched in, with a female assassin and a dark skinned one following behind.

“Nothing. Pearl didn’t tell me anything before she died. Only that Starrick’s got her locked up somewhere,” the male growled, rubbing his hair in obvious frustration. The woman noticed her presence and her eyes narrowed.

“Is this her sister?” she asked and Shaun nodded. “Evie Frye and that growling mess is my brother Jacob.”

“Nina Cheshire,” Nina introduced and then turned to Shaun. The blonde had guessed that if Shaun wasn’t making a big deal out of hiding anything, then they were trusted enough to know about her and her sister. “So…the mirror? How does it work?”

“Just say ‘show me where Aisha Hawke is,’” Shaun instructed as she moved to stand in front of the mirror. Reaching out, her fingers lightly grazed the cold glass.

“Show me where Aisha Hawke is,” she instructed and the glass swirled. Removing her hand, she and the others watched as an image of an unconscious Aisha appeared. Her arms were tied against the bed frame by some rope, no obvious harm on her face.

“That doesn’t show us much,” Evie muttered, clucking her tongue a bit.

“At least we know she unharmed,” Henry added, offering a bit of a silver lining to the dire situation.

“Show us the outside of the building where Aisha Hawke is being kept,” Nina ordered, being a little bit more specific in her instruction. The mirror responded, replacing the image of Aisha with a seemingly harmless mansion. “You know where that is?”

“Westminster,” Jacob answered, heading straight out without another word. Evie and Henry exchanged looks before the twin went after her brother. Shaun was beginning to take her back but Nina stopped him.

“You’re not supposed to be here. Timeline collapsing and all, remember?” he reminded her and she rolled her eyes.

“I am a daughter of Time; I understand how this works. The timeline hasn’t dissolved because I don’t exist by 1868. Correct me if I’m wrong,” she shot at him and when he remained silent, she turned away.

“I’ll go help Jacob then,” Shaun said quietly, leaving the two of them in silence.

Finally, Henry broke it. “I apologise for asking this but…what do you mean, you don’t exist by this time? I thought all of you were immortal,” he said, recalling information Aisha herself had told him.

Nina gave a bitter smile, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yes but we can give up our immortality any time we want. I must meet someone _pretty_ special if I gave it up,” she mused, staring into the mirror as it returned back to its dormant state.

**oOo**

Her head pounded as she slowly came to. Opening her eyes, the brunette found herself in an unfamiliar room when it came to her.

 _Damn. I can’t believe I was so stupid,_ she thought, wincing a little at the painful headache pulsing in her skull. Feeling constricted, she glanced at her arms and found them bound by rope to the bed posts. Wriggling a little, she tested the strength of them when the door opened.

Aisha sent a glare as Starrick ambled in, Lucy Thorne not far behind. The Templar occultist returned her glare with one of her own, but Starrick wore a charming smile.

“Miss Hawke. I am pleased to see you have awoken. My apologises for the way my men mistreated you,” Starrick said, bowing his head a little. “I am—”

“Crawford Starrick, grand master of the British Templars,” Aisha interrupted in a slightly bored tone. Starrick simply raised a brow while Lucy looked furious at the fact she _dared_ to interrupt him. “You’re the nicest kidnapper I’ve had so far. Certainly beats dungeons.”

“Unlike past members of my order who have treated a person of your statue in such a degrading manner, _I_ was raised a gentleman. It is not every day one comes across a child of time himself,” he said, almost proud and she raised a brow, tugging at the ropes.

“Is it gentlemanly to kidnap a woman and tied her to a bed without her permission?” she quipped and he remained silent. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed the barred windows.”

It seemed Lucy has had enough of her disrespect. “Then we’ll cut right to the chase. Where is the Shroud?” the red head demanded, taking a step forward until Starrick raised a hand.

Aisha smirked. “I’ve been tortured plenty of times for over four hundred years. If I never broke then, what makes you think this will be different?” she questioned, sending a verbal challenge to the occultist.

Lucy’s nostrils flared and if it weren’t for the fact that Starrick’s held out arm acted as a barrier, there was no doubt in her mind that she would have strangled her.

“Perhaps you need to be alone for a while. I do hope you reflect on the benefits on co-operating, Miss Hawke,” Starrick told her firmly before leading Lucy and himself out.

When she heard the door’s lock being turned, the seamstress waited a few good minutes before she tugged on the right rope a little harder, feeling it loosen _just_ enough for her hand to wiggle out. As soon as it was free, she quickly released her left arm and rubbed her wrists, both had red marks from the rope.

 _Okay, so options. Shaun would have noticed by now that I’m missing which raises the chance of a rescue already in progress,_ she rose from the bed, heading to the window. The bars seemed to be installed properly, making it impossible for her to escape that way. _A guard should be outside the door and it’s locked from in here._

Spying a vase, she walked over and picked it up. Testing the weight, a plan began to formulate in her mind when she heard a small commotion outside her room. Frowning, she headed straight for the door and listened carefully.

Grunts, muffled cries and gunshots were all she could hear. Glancing at the window, it was dark outside. A few good solid hours of her missing. Which meant the owners of the chaos outside were no doubt belonging to Jacob.

“Grab the girl!” Aisha heard someone shout outside and she pressed herself against the wall. The door swung open, heavy footsteps stepping into the room.

“What the—” the large burly Blighter was cut off as the vase was smashed against his head. He fell down like a house of cards, blood seeping from his bald head. Stepping out she cried out as a burning pain rushed through her right arm. Clutching it, she felt her hand become damp from the blood slowly pooling through her finger tips.

Her head turned to where the shooter was and raised her right hand, freezing her before she could shoot her again. Seeing that was taken care of, Aisha was able to catch her breath and assess the situation.

More gunshots coming from downstairs lured her towards the stairs. Quickly glancing down, she checked to see if there was anyone there. When it was clear, she ran down and found the twins fighting off the last remaining guards.

“Jacob! Evie!” Aisha called out before wincing, pain shooting up her arm. More blood seemed to spill out, despite how hard she was pressing into the wound.

Jacob impaled one in front of him before he rushed over. His hazel eyes zoomed in on her wound, darkening a little. “Where’s the sorry ass?” he demanded but she shook her head.

“She won’t be frozen for long so we need to leave now,” Aisha pointed out just as Evie killed the last guard.

“Shaun’s drawn most of them away so we should be clear to leave through the back,” Evie informed her as they began escaping through a back entrance. Jacob kept close to her, helping her climb over the fence.

“Jacob, Pearl is Starrick’s cousin,” Aisha said, panting a little as she tried to focus on something other than the searing pain in her arm.

“Pearl’s already dealt with,” Jacob responded bluntly, noticing she was lagging behind a little. Clucking his tongue, he quickly swept her up in his arms and began carrying her back with Evie running ahead. “When we get back, you have so much explaining to do.”

“I know,” she murmured, resting her head against his chest. Her eyelids felt heavy and having no strength to fight it, she grew unconscious.

* * *

**Songs: I Was Here by Beyonce and Again by AmaLee on youtube.**

 


	5. Chapter Five: Ready To Fall

** Chapter Five: **

** Ready To Fall **

**_Early Next Morning…_ **

The first thing she saw when her eyes opened, was the familiar white ceiling of her bedroom. The first thing she noticed was there was no pain in her arm or feeling of discomfort.

Her mind whirling as it recalled details of the last twenty-four hours, she groaned and covered her arms with her hands. With the twins rescuing her and Jacob’s last words confirmed that they were now aware of who she was. This meant explanations were in order and the chance of the twins treating her differently. That wasn’t something she wanted.

 _Better get this over with,_ she sighed, sitting up. Grabbing one of her simpler gowns; a lilac purple one, she ran over her words carefully in her mind. When she was ready, she began heading down to the kitchen. Upon entering, she halted and stared.

“Nina?” she whispered, a little surprised to see the blonde who beamed at her.

“Hello, Aisha,” Nina greeted, getting up and accepting the hug the brunette gave her. As she squeezed her, the final piece in her puzzle came. Shaun must have gotten her sister to access the mirror. No wonder her rescue came as quick as they did. “Despite the last couple of hours, you seem to be doing well.”

“I’m usually three steps ahead. I’ve gotten lazy,” Aisha cheeked, pulling away and staring at her sister. It had been sixty-five years since she last saw her older sister. Sixty-five long years of knowing she was the only female child left in the human world. “It’s…I’m glad I got to see you.”

Nina nodded, sharing an understand smile. “I am too,” she agreed before turning back to Shaun. “I’m ready to return.”

“I’ll open the door. Don’t even try to run away. We’re heading to the train together,” Shaun ordered her firmly, not giving her any room to argue. Holding her hands up in surrender, she watched as he drew up a door in the wall with his finger tip. Nina hugged her one last time before disappearing through the door, returning back to her time. “Have you thought about what to do?”

Her surprised expression must have been not as hidden as she had thought as he chuckled. “Can’t we just…erase their memories?” she asked hopefully but Shaun shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It’ll be easier in the long run if they’re aware. Besides,” he gave her a long look. “They’d have found out sooner or later.”

Leaning back against the wall with her hands behind her back, she stared down at the ground. “Later preferably. But I suppose we can’t change that.”

“Exactly!” he clapped mockingly as she shot him a glare. Sensing how unamused she was, he immediately stopped and cleared his throat. “We better head to the train then. Rip this off like a band-aid.”

“What?” she frowned, not understanding the simile but he waved it off. Seeing no explanation about to be given, she dropped it and left the shop with him close to her.

Shaun kept a close eye out as she skilfully led them towards Charing Cross station. They avoided any main roads, choosing to stick to less crowded side streets and even back alley ways.

As she climbed the steps, entering the station, her shoulders relaxed a little at the familiar sight of the train. It stood there, impressive and imposing as ever. A few Rooks were standing around, keeping an eye out for anything.

A burly member, one called Joseph or Joey as he preferred, spotted the two entering. He marched over, clapping Aisha on the shoulder gently. “Good to see you back, Miss Hawke. How are you feelin’?”

“Better now that I’ve had a good night’s rest. Arm stings a little,” she answered, playing it off like her arm was still injured. “Are Jacob and Evie on board?”

“Aye. Asked us to keep an eye out in case those bastards want an early funeral,” Joey added, smirking a little. She said nothing, choosing to smile instead as she headed straight for the train. Climbing aboard the last carriage, the brunette and blond maneuvered their way towards the front.

Aisha paused before the door. Her fingers rested against the wood, hesitating to reach out and open the last barrier. She bit her bottom lip as a warm hand squeezed her shoulder.

“They won’t treat you differently, Aisha. Henry didn’t and neither will Evie. Or Jacob.”

Hearing those reassuring words, the seamstress nodded and opened the door. Jacob seemed to have been pacing whilst Evie stared at the map and Henry on the couch.

“I told you, they’d be fine,” Henry stated knowingly as they stepped in. “Nina has returned to her time?”

Shaun nodded, shoving his hands into his dark brown coat pocket. “Like she never left. Restored any little nicks I might’ve left so it’s all right as rain,” he responded.

Aisha twisted the ring on her finger a little, avoiding eye contact. “Thank you both again for freeing me.”

“We were more than happy to, Aisha,” Evie spoke, glancing at her brother who had his arms crossed, staring at the seamstress. “Henry told us a little about the order. That Shaun wasn’t your cousin but an agent.”

Aisha turned to her friend who nodded encouragingly.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly figured out the words in her head. “Then I guess I should start from the beginning. My real name is Aishanna. My father is an immortal being in charge of time, Chronos. One of the members of the first civilisation or those who came before.”

Evie’s eyes sparked with realisation. “The ones who made the Pieces of Eden?” she questioned and Aisha nodded.

“From my understanding, he survived by staying in the Axis—a realm he created. When the others fell and only humanity survived, my father realised the dangers the unchecked artifacts possessed in human hands. So he established an order dedicated to protecting the artifacts from those who would wield them selfishly, and to ensure that the timeline ran smoothly without any interruptions,” Aisha explained. “Tempus Autem Custos.”

“We take care of any abnormalities and clean up messes left behind by the misuse of said artifacts,” Shaun added with a shrug. “Agents like me just happen to work with your order.”

“Why not join our order then?” Jacob spoke suddenly, moving his gaze to the blond. “The Templars would be gone in a day and London would be free!”

“Your war with the Templars is yours alone. We can’t interfere more than necessary. It’s part of our law set by Chronos and enforced by the Children.”

Evie looked at her. “The Children of Time. Then why are you helping us?”

“Most of my siblings run the order but there are some of us who hated it. We wanted to live of our own lives and grow with humanity. To be better than those who came before who sought only to command you,” Aisha confessed, swallowing a little. “I believe in your cause and have seen first-hand the destruction caused by the Templars in their endeavour to bring order.”

“You might recognise a few names. Javier Karim, Demetri Petrov, Rana Anippe, Arianna and Martino Romano, Mei Liu, Sabine Dumont, Nina Cheshire,” Henry listed off the names of siblings of hers. Only Javier, Martino and Demetri were the only ones who still lived in the human world. Martino or Martin as he preferred now, was the only one she talked to. God only knows where the other two were. “Ever since the twelve century, only the most trusted in the order know the existence of the Children. We have kept them safe from the Templars who crave their power.”

Understanding washed over Jacob’s face. “ _That’s_ why Starrick kidnapped you. Why the Blighters have been hunting you down,” he said, staring straight into her eyes. Aisha nodded, rubbing her arm a little.

“By choosing to live here, we could act where Tempus could not. As a condition for choosing to leave, each of us were given an artifact of our own. A hair brush to grant you a new identity, a ring to hide your presence—”

“—Or a mirror that shows you anything,” Evie interrupted but frowned when Aisha shook her head.

“It can only show the past or the present. The future is something I must discover for myself,” she responded, quoting the last words spoken to her by her father. It’s been hundreds of years since she last saw him, but those words had stuck with her through anything and everything.

“Only those who carry the blood of Chronos can use the artifacts as well. To stop any rogue agents or anyone else from using them,” Shaun pipped in, giving additional information. He lightly bumping his shoulder against hers. “This one’s been here since 1456.”

The look of utter shock mirrored on the twins almost made her laugh. Almost.

Evie recovered first, staring at her. “That would make you over four hundred years old!”

“Four hundred and thirty-three,” Aisha corrected, realising that little tad bit of information didn’t help her case. Her eyes couldn’t help but look towards Jacob, seeing the shock on his face. Like she was…different. An outsider.

 _That’s what you are. Never forget that,_ her thoughts reminded her. “I’ll be at my shop,” she said, turning around and headed to the door.

“I’ll escort you,” Henry offered, walking with her. They left the train station in silence, Aisha using the same back alleys and streets as before.

“You did the right thing,” the dark skinned assassin said as they came to a stop by a corner.

“Did I?” Aisha wondered as they waited for a break in the traffic to cross. “I feel like I’ve just lost everything.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“My identity is now gone again, Evie and Jacob will no doubt treat me like an—”

“—An outsider?” Henry guessed as they walked across the road. “Aisha, you know that won’t be true. Miss Frye will be overjoyed to have you assist even more.”

“And what about Jacob?” the brunette asked, pausing mid-step. “You _saw_ the way he looked at me for just revealing my age. What will his reaction be when he learns about my powers? I’m not exactly human Henry.”

Henry glanced around, eyes darting across the street before returning his gaze to her. “Excuse me for being blunt, but why do you care of Mister Frye’s thoughts? Why him in particular?”

Why him indeed.

“We shouldn’t linger,” Aisha said, moving past and continuing her trip down the concrete path. She refused to speak more on the matter and it seemed Henry was content to let it drop. For now, at the very least.

“Do you want me to stay until Shaun returns?” Henry inquired, stepping to the side as Aisha unlocked her door. Before answering, her eyes did a sweep of the area. Catching a glimpse of a couple of Rooks hanging about, she shook her head.

“There are Rooks hanging about. I’ll be fine,” she reassured her friend, turning the knob and entering her shop. Henry followed, watching her head up the steps without a word.

Her feet moved towards her office, questions burning in her mind that needed to be answered. Had anything occurred to her whilst she was knocked out? How did Pearl Attaway’s assassination come about? What was Starrick’s reaction to the news of her death? Why was Starrick hell bent on capturing her?

She had a rough idea about the last one but needed to be sure.

Standing in front of the mirror, she was relieved to see it once more. There was a certain comfort the artifact held. It was the last thing she received from her father and it has always helped her out.

“Sorry I was gone again, old friend,” she murmured, stroking the right side of the frame. “Show me Crawford Starrick’s reaction to the death of Pearl Attaway.”

The mirror’s surface shimmered, swirling until a clear scene of Crawford playing the piano showed. The melancholy tune, the raw emotion of anger and grief etched through his voice…Crawford had cared about Pearl. She pitied the man—it was never easy to lose a loved one.

“— _And deem it but a faded light. Which beams it within your eyes; when hollow hearts must wear a mask—”_ he paused, reaching for his pistol.

“ _Mister Starrick—”_ the man collapsed onto the ground as the bullet shot through his head.

“ _I told you **not** to disturb me!_ ” Crawford bellowed, staring at the body for one moment before turning away. Placing the pistol back onto the top of the piano, he resumed his song once more. Lucy Thorne entered the room quietly, closing the doors behind her and waited patiently for Crawford to finish. She probably thought better than to interrupt him.

“ _Crawford,”_ Lucy called softly, announcing her presence to him.

His shoulders were hunched slightly. “ _Her luster stripped by the hands of that savage. He must be brought to justice.”_

 _“Pearl would not want justice. Pearl would want vengeance,”_ Lucy spat, approaching the piano with her fists clenched at her sides.

“ _Your passion is most welcome, Miss Thorne,”_ he said, gently closing the lid. “ _But we cannot let out emotions disrupt the lawful structures of society. If we do that, our enemy wins.”_

 _“It shall happen the in shadows,”_ the red head stated, mouth twisting as a predator look sparkled in her eye. “ _Miss Frye will hang from the gallows, and I will flay her brother as he comes to save her.”_

_“And when there is no one left to protect her, Miss Hawke will be in our custody permanently. Take no chances though, increase the Templar presence in London. We alone protect this city of light.”_

_“Yes, Crawford,”_ she smiled. “ _And then we shall enter the vault and cast aside the shadows together.”_

The image faded, having shown her all she needed to see. Of course, they wouldn’t give up on capturing her. Templars were stubborn and if they wanted the Shroud, the only way to access it safely was through her.

“Show me my capture and what took place whilst I was unconscious,” she ordered. The mirror, processing her request, took a few moments before swirling and projecting everything.

After being knocked out, Aisha’s body had been moved to a carriage. From there, it was a simple drive towards a large manor in Westminster. The image switched to Starrick and Lucy in the room whilst she was unconscious. Lucy held the necklace near and seemed delighted as the key reacted to Aisha’s presence.

 _So they’ve confirmed that. Guess that’s another reason to be extra careful,_ she thought, about to issue another command when another scene appeared. Frowning, Aisha observed the new scene. Her body, once again unconscious, but in her bed this time with Shaun, Nina, Evie and Henry in the room. She chewed her bottom lip, eyes searching for Jacob but failed to find him in the room.

“ _—increase Rook presence around the shop. We won’t lose her a second time, Shaun. You have our word,”_ Evie vowed to the blond, who acknowledge it with a nod but kept a firm gaze on Aisha. “ _I’ll be back at the train.”_

 _“Thanks again Evie,”_ Shaun said and waited until she left before turning to the dark-skinned assassin. “ _Why hasn’t your Council sent more assassins out here?”_

 _“They thought it best to have one watch over London. Wait for an opportunity to take it back from the Templars,”_ Henry answered calmly, noticing how tense the agent was. “ _I understand your anger—”_

_“Your order is sworn to protect the Children! I’m past anger at this point!”_

_“The Council doesn’t know about her whereabouts,”_ Henry confessed, staring down at her quiet body. His brown eyes softened. “ _Aisha only wanted a select few to know. There was only one other person besides myself who knew. Ethan Frye. She doesn’t trust the Council.”_

Shaun snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “ _I don’t blame her—we’re doing the hard work while they’re in Crawley watching. They stand in fire and complain that’s it’s hot.”_

 _“Indeed,”_ Henry agreed as the door opened. Both men look towards it, visibly relaxing at the sight of the intruder. “ _Jacob.”_

 _“How is she?”_ Jacob questioned, standing beside Shaun.

“ _Her arm is healed. She’s just resting now. I’ll go and feed the birds,”_ Henry excused himself, leaving the two men alone in the room. Aisha’s chest rose and sank, she remaining oblivious to what was going on around her.

“ _I should have gone with her. If I had then none of this would’ve happened,”_ Jacob spoke, breaking the silence.

“ _No offense, but yeah. You should’ve,”_ Shaun agreed bluntly. “ _But I know how stubborn she can be. So I’ll let you off this time.”_

The blond patted his shoulder and moved towards the door. “ _I’m gonna have a chat with Nina. Stay here.”_

Jacob said nothing, continuing to stare down at her. Quietly, he pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed. He removed his hat, rubbing his face with a tired groan.

“ _I take back every time I ever called you a helpless seamstress. You are more trouble than you’re worth,”_ the brunet joked, smiling down. Reaching out, he placed his hand on top of hers. “ _I told you I’d never let them get their mits on you and yet…I’m sorry.”_

Aisha’s brows rose. “I’ve never heard him apologise before,” she commented.

“Yeah, me neither.”

She whipped around, hand raised when she discovered Jacob climbing through her window. He glanced at the raised hand for a moment before pulling his leg through.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again for a while,” Aisha admitted, lowering her hand as he leaned against the wall. “Especially after finding out everything.”

“I _have_ heard of you before. Even met one of your brothers—Martin,” Jacob said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ll admit that I never expected you to be one but it explains a lot.”

She frowned a little. “Like what?”

“How you seem to know everything, why Starrick is obsessed with you, your knowledge of assassins,” his hazel eyes glanced at the mirror. “That can show you anything?”

“Is there something in particular you want to see?” she asked as he moved closer, standing right next to her.

“London before the Templars took control. I need to see what it was like—see what I’m trying to achieve,” he gave her a sideways glance. “Unless you were there.”

She snorted. “No way. I was in Scotland during that time,” she told him before turning back to the mirror. “Show London during Edward Kenway’s reign.”

The mirror shimmered, taking a moment before revealing multiple attributes of London. From the Thames to Whitechapel, London had experienced a type of peace under the Assassin Order’s control. When it finished, Jacob gaze hardened.

“It will take time but I know London will be free again. I’ll even help you,” Aisha said quietly, looking up at him. He slowly moved his gaze from the mirror and onto her, staring down with such intensity that her heart fluttered. “What?”

“You’ve helped me more than you know. But it won’t hurt to see you in your robes again,” he winked, smirking at the colour rising into her cheeks. “Is that a blush I see, Aishanna?”

“Aisha and no, you ass. It’s just hot in here,” she muttered, looking away. He chuckled, snaking a few fingers under her chin. He gripped it lightly, forcing her to look at him.

“I can make it even hotter,” he whispered lowly, eyes trailing down to her lips. The desire to kiss him, the anticipation and wondering if he was going to kiss her almost became too much. “Aisha…”

“I need to head to the market,” she informed him, removing his hand and stepping back. Her heart hammered in her chest, her stomach turning inside out.

“I’ll come with you,” he offered and she opened her mouth but quickly closed it. After what happened, she couldn’t afford to be stubborn about her safety anymore. Even after witnessing Starrick’s reaction to Pearl’s death. “We’ll take one of the carriages. There’s one nearby in case you needed it.”

“That’s thoughtful of you,” she said, impressed by him. Jacob rolled his eyes, sticking close to her as they left her shop. Approaching the carriage, Jacob took the reins and she sat beside him.

“Wouldn’t you rather be inside?” he asked but she shook her head.

“Figured if you’re going to insist on playing guard I’d better stick close,” Aisha pointed out. The corner of his lip twitched before clicking his tongue for the horse to move.


	6. Chapter Six: Nil Sen Moonlight

** Chapter Six: **

** Nil Sen Moonlight **

**_Two Weeks Later…_ **

She was always with someone now.

Whether it’d be Shaun, Henry, the twins or even a Rook member; Aisha always had a guard assigned to her. It _did_ annoy her a little, but the brunette understood where all the caution came from. Witnessing Starrick’s plans and continued effort to acquire her had them all on edge.

With these changes, it was decided that she would stay on the train at night but, after much arguing, could return to her shop during the day. Seeing the shop empty at night, Aisha struck a deal with Clara; the children could use the upstairs as a place to sleep if they kept it tidy and kept any messages in her office or brought directly to her. Clara was more than happy to accept the generous deal presented.

In all honesty, one good thing came from her kidnapping—more time spent within close proximity to Jacob. After that night in her office, she found old feelings of attraction stirring within her. She’d often find herself seeking out his company, wanting to please him and make him smile. The seamstress no longer had to hold back as he knew everything. She could be herself in front of him.

One morning, she awoke to a child’s voice calling her name. Slowly, she opened her eyes and sat up just as footsteps drew closer. Turning to the doorway, Aisha found Ricky, a young lad with angelic blond curls and a devilish smile being escorted in with Jacob.

“—She’s just in here,” Jacob informed Ricky and noticed her awake. “Dammit. Looks like our plan failed before it began.”

Aisha raised a brow, moving stray strands of hair out of her face. “And what plans would they be?”

“Mister Frye wanted me to jump on you ma’am,” Ricky tattled on, grinning cheekily at the male assassin. He in turn, looked wounded at how quickly Ricky turned him in.

“Thanks for selling me out,” he muttered, and she chuckled, noticing the piece of paper in Ricky’s hand. “Get much sleep?”

“A bit. Hard to adjust to the train’s movements and noise,” Aisha admitted, grabbing the letter from the blond child. Ripping it open, she quickly read the contents and her eyes widened. “Ricky could you find Evie? She’ll be on the library carriage.”

“Yes ma’am,” Ricky said, accepting the ten shillings from the seamstress before heading further to the front of the carriage in search of the female assassin. She threw off the covers and rose off the bed, eyes still reading the letter again.

“What have we here?” Jacob asked, standing beside and looking over her shoulder. She held the letter at a better angle, allowing him to read the words. “ ** _Boiler, this Dredge character’s meddling will be the death of us. He was loitering around the Exchange today asking far too many about the bank. Should he discover my plan, you will face a far worse fate than losing your job. Signed, Plutus._** ”

“Plutus is the alias name for Starrick’s banker. This Dredge gentlemen is news to me. I’ve never heard of the man,” Aisha told him as Evie walked in with Ricky not far behind. “Good morning Evie.”

“Good morning Aisha. Jacob,” she gave a curt nod to her brother before turning her attention back onto the brunette. “You have news?”

“Learned of Starrick’s banker,” Jacob answered, lightly pointing at the mention of Dredge in the letter. “I wager Dredge will lead me to him.”

Evie crossed her arms over her chest. “While you’re out and about, do attempt not to destroy modern medicine or the London transportation network,” she said and Jacob rolled his eyes.

“Don’t make me laugh,” he replied dismissively as Aisha folded the letter.

“Innocent lives are in the balance. They depend on this city. Wouldn’t you agree, Aisha?”

“Don’t bring her into this!” Jacob snapped at his sister before Aisha could even open her mouth. “ _I’m_ not the one who let Lucy Thorne walk away.”

Evie’s cheeks flushed a little and she sent her brother a glare. “A mistake I intend to rectify immediately,” she shot back before gazing back at her. “Speaking of which; do you have any information for me?”

“Not yet. I’ll check my other messages and the mirror later. I have some appointments this morning,” Aisha said apologetically. Evie nodded and sparred one last glance at her brother before returning to the previous carriage she was one. She lightly tapped the letter against her lips, lost in thoughts. A warm hand on her shoulder broke her out of them and she looked over.

Jacob was watching her, brows furrowed, and concern held in his hazel eyes. “Ignore Evie. She’s still sore after losing to Thorne,” he said but she shook her head.

“It’s not that. I’m making the best of a poor situation,” she shrugged and turned around, tapping the letter against his chest. “If this Dredge fellow has been inquiring about the bank, your best lead would be there.”

He nodded. “Are you free this afternoon?” he questioned, and she pursed her lips in thought. Running her schedule through her head, she worked out that she was indeed free this late afternoon. “Dickens has another ‘ghost’ investigation and wanted my assistance.”

She didn’t miss his sarcasm and crossed her arms over her chest. “Afraid of the supernatural, I take it?” she asked, and he snorted, straightening up his jacket.

“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” he dismissed, and it was her turn to snort. “Have you ever met one?”

“No but think about this logically. _I’m_ a daughter of Time and over four hundred years old. If _I_ exist, what’s to say ghosts don’t?” Aisha pointed out as the train slowly eased into a station. She gathered her cloak, slipping it over her dress, buttoning up at the neck. “But yes, I’ll be there. Meet at the pub?”

Jacob leaned in the doorway as she stepped off the train. “I’ll pick you up from your shop. It’ll be a date,” he added, winking and she found her cheeks suddenly warm. Turning away, she hurried out of the station, cheeks red the entire way.

**oOo**

**_Early Evening…_ **

She burst through the door, bell announcing her arrival. Quickly, she carried the package to the back room as Jacob entered.

“I _know_ I said afternoon, but the dress fitting went longer than I expected. Had to make several changes to the dress and _then_ she wanted a coat for her husband—” she broke off when she turned, finding Jacob watching her scurry with a warm smile. “What’s so funny?”

“I’ve never seen you so disorganised,” Jacob answered, and she let out a puff of air, moving the stray strand of hair behind her ear. He held out and arm. “Shall we be off, my lady?”

Aisha found herself smiling as she accepted the arm, entwining hers as they left the shop. They climbed up the front, with Jacob taking the reins. Clicking his tongue, the horses followed the command and leisurely trotted down the road.

“How did the lead fair? Did you find Mister Dredge?” she inquired, sparring a glance at him from the corner of her eye. He was concentrating on the road, eyes narrowed just a tad bit.

“Mister Dredge is none other than Freddy,” he informed her, and she raised a brow. “Explains why you’ve never heard of Dredge before.”

“Good to know I’m not losing my touch,” she mused as they turned a corner. The cool autumn breeze blew past and she shivered. Jacob glanced over, sending her a smirk.

“Didn’t think you’d get cold,” he commented, and she shot him a look. “Sit closer. I won’t object to a beautiful woman.”

She wanted to retort but instead chose to accept him on his offer. She scooted closer to the assassin, pressing into his side. He shifted, allowing her access to his body warmth. She noticed how unusually warm he was, feeling his natural body heat emit from him. Not to mention his scent filling her nostrils.

“I’m half human, Jacob,” she confessed quietly, staring at the road. “I may not age but I am susceptible to the weather just as you are.”

“Your mother?” he asked, and she nodded.

“I was born in Germany but back then, it was known as Germania. Part of the Holy Roman Empire,” Aisha said, reflecting on her childhood. She only had vague memories about her mother, but the things she did recall were Charlotte’s love of fabrics. “My mother was a seamstress. She created many articles of clothing that held such…love in each one. I often played dress up, trying to make her smile.”

Jacob glanced down at her. “Did she not smile much?”

“She was always worried about the debt hanging over her head and raising me to ever truly smile,” she responded, shoulders slumping a little. “She died from a disease that swept the village when I was four. My father took me to the Axis not long after and Nina raised me.”

Silence fell between as Jacob continued driving them towards the pub Charles frequented. As he pulled up to the curb and she moved to climb off, he grabbed her arm. She frowned, wondering what he was up to when he reached out and stroked her cheek with his finger.

“You didn’t need to tell me…but thank you,” Jacob said as she searched his hazel eyes for any sign of cheek or humour. But all she found was sincerity and it touched her.

Smiling, she turned her face into his touch. “Thank you for accepting me,” she replied before pulling away and climbing off the carriage. She waited by the door for him to join her and together, they met up with Charles.

Charles’s eyes lit up at the sight of her. “Miss Hawke! A pleasure to see you,” he greeted, kissing her cheek and she returned the gesture. “Still as beautiful as ever. When will you land a husband?”

“When one can keep up with me, I suspect,” Aisha mused, sending him a wink as Charles shook Jacob’s hand. “Jacob tells me your Ghost Club has a new case?”

Charles clapped his hand, eyes sparkling. “Ah yes! If you will both follow me,” he exclaimed, marching over to the carriage that they had taken. Jacob and Aisha exchanged looks before following. Seeing Charles had taken a seat at the front, the brunette hopped into the carriage as Jacob once again took the reins. He began informing the pair about the house that was supposedly haunted due to various deaths.

Once they pulled up, Aisha stared at the building as she climbed out. It didn’t _look_ haunted to her, but maybe things were more than meets the eye. Jacob stood next to her, arms crossed over his chest.

“Get any ghostly vibes?” he asked, smirking a little and she rolled her eyes. Charles stood in the doorway, peeking into the house before turning back to the pair.

“Shall we?” he said, holding a hand out. Aisha stepped in with Jacob not far behind. “Though this house is vacant, some say it comes alive at night with screams of terror, ringing bells, and slamming shutters.”

Aisha paused by the piano, examining the keys. Her mind recalled information on the house. “The owner was a man named James Jasper, a known opium-addict,” she said, stepping away from the instrument.

“Quite right. Although there are claims that a young man was caged in the attic, his only connection to the rest of the world, a tiny whole in the wall. A young man reduced to madness due to extreme isolation,” Charles continued as they climbed the stairs. “The legends all seem to focus on one room in particular.”

Aisha stepped into an open room and immediately noticed the rocking empty cradle. She stood closer and observed it quietly before reaching out and halted its movement.

Charles poked his head and saw the cradle. “A sudden draft, nothing more,” he dismissed as a childish giggle had them both tensing.

Her eyes flickered to Jacob’s. “That sounded like it came from downstairs,” she said, moving away from the cradle. Jacob marched ahead, spotting a young boy halfway down the stairs.

“Get back here!” Jacob shouted, jumping the rest of the stairs and landing firmly. He sprinted off after the child, leaving her to chase after up until the doorway. “Stay with Charlie!”

The brunette watched his back disappear and sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. It didn’t surprise her that’d run head first into danger. It was one of his charms after all. But it also made her worry and without her mirror on her to watch over…

“Where in the world is he off to?” Charles questioned, appearing at the bottom of the stairs.

“Wish I knew. He’ll be back though,” she told him, turning away from the entrance. “Guess this place isn’t haunted after all.”

A twinkle shone in his eyes. “Ah but we’ve delved further into the mystery. I have found a lock by a painting. What do you suppose that means, Miss Hawke?” he asked giddily, walking back up to the third floor.

“A secret somebody wants buried,” she replied, climbing back up the stairs. Charles showed her the lock and she examined it. It seemed to be a standard model; wall mounted type to be exact. One used for vaults or hidden safes in parts of the richer houses. “A wall mounted one. Can’t be picked.”

“Lucky for you, I’ve got the key,” Jacob announced, appeared at the top of the stairs, holding up a key. He strode over, handing it to Charles who eagerly took it. As the older gentlemen began working on opening it, she noticed the slight bit of sweat on Jacob’s brow. “Any trouble while I was gone?”

“The only excitement was discovering the lock. What happened with the child?” she asked as the wall opened, revealing a new case of stairs. The two of them exchanged a look as Charles bounded up as quickly as he could. “There’s no mention of a fourth floor in the building plans.”

“Stay close,” Jacob instructed as they headed up the steps. Waiting for them were two, large levers connected to the floor. Marching over to the right one, the male assassin pulled it. A few clicks before the sound of a beautiful melody came from downstairs.

“The piano,” Aisha realised, seeing a pattern. “Someone is staging a haunting to keep people away.”

“How disappointedly dull,” Jacob noted, seeing her frowning and rubbing her forehead. “What’s wrong?”

“Someone did something similar in Austria,” she answered as an angered snarl came from the wall. The wall slid away, revealing an angered man wielding a knife.

“Get out of my house!” he shrieked, launching himself towards them. Jacob intercepted with his hidden blade, pushing the mad man back.

“Get clear you two!” Jacob ordered, fighting off their attacker. Charles made a beeline for the stairs, hurrying down them without much protest. Aisha stayed close, hand out at the ready in case Jacob needed help.

He disarmed the attacked, slitting his throat. Blood squirted out from the cut and the man fell to his knees. His eyes widened, staring up at Jacob in horror, gargling the blood. He fell face forward and stayed still.

Aisha held out a grey handkerchief and Jacob took it, wiping the blood from his face.

“Are you all right?” she asked, turning her gaze away from the man to Jacob who nodded.

“The nutter didn’t touch me,” he responded as something black caught her eye. Glancing over, she saw a mysterious, white cloaked figure standing by the window. Black smoke pillowed out from beneath the robes and it floated over towards the body.

“Who was he?” Aisha asked, watching it crouch down and place a hand on the back of the man’s neck.

“ ** _James Jasper_** ,” the figure answered, its tone masculine.

“Who are you talking to?” Jacob asked, looking to where her eyes were but found no one. Of course, he wouldn’t be able to see.

“A Lautus. They find candidates for the order,” she answered, watching him reach in through James’s chest and pull out a grey orb. “They inspect a person’s soul and decide whether or not to bring it to the order. If deemed worthy, they cleanse the soul before ferrying it to the Axis.”

“You can see it because of your father.”

She nodded, as the Lautus shook his head. He put the soul back into the dead body before rising to his feet. He stared at her briefly before shimmering out of sight. “His name was James Jasper.”

**oOo**

**_The Train Hideaway…_ **

“ _So. You have murdered me after all_ ,” Lucy Thorne coughed, blood seeping from the corner of her mouth. “ _But what good will that do you? The Shroud isn’t here.”_

Evie stared down at her, crouching close to her body. “ _You sought a tool of healing in order to extend your own power._ ”

“ _Not mine, ours. You are so short sighted. You’d hoard power and never use it. Command the Children instead of following them. We would better the condition of humanity. I hope you never find the Shroud. You have no idea what it can truly do.”_

“ _Tell me, then.”_

Lucy’s eyes narrowed. “ _No_ ,” she slurred, gargling as she choked on her own blood before finally falling silent. Aisha shook her head, deactivating the small, arm sized mirror. Seeing how she was no longer sleeping in her house, the brunette took her mirror with her when she moved to the train.

It had been a unique gift from her father. The mirror would change its shape whenever the need arose. It could change from a large, full length mirror to one that could fit in the palm of one’s hand.

“Anything interesting?”

She glanced up and found Jacob watching her by the doorway. She shifted in her spot on the bed, making the blankets fall further from her body and exposing her cream nightgown.

“Lucy Thorne is dead,” she informed him, unable to remove the slight frown from her face.

“And you’re unhappy because…?” he trailed off, moving to sit on the bed, near her feet.

“Something she said bothered me,” she answered and positioned the mirror so he could see it as well. “Show me Lucy Thorne’s dying words.”

The mirror shimmered and replayed what she had just witnessed. Jacob’s brows furrowed at the mention of the Children and his blue eyes glanced up at her brown ones.

“When we left the Axis, our father would show us what the world looked like when we reigned over humanity. How broken, corrupted and voided of all hope towards the end,” she explained, running her thumb along the silver frame of the mirror. “While we scrambled to find a solution to avoid the Catalyst, humanity went underground. They survived because of their ingenuity. The race created for labour outlived their creators.”

“He warned you against seeking power,” Jacob stated, and she nodded, confirming his thoughts.

“ **Do not rule humanity. Serve them. Guide them. Protect them. If we do need heed the mistakes of the past, we are doomed to repeat the cycle** ,” she quoted, turning the mirror over and placing it on her lap. Shaking off the melancholy, she turned back to him. “How did your mission go?”

His brows scrunched together. “Twopenny is the one behind the robberies,” the male assassin informed her, and she failed to hide her surprise. “For once, I know something you don’t.”

“Twopenny? But why would the governor…” she trailed off, shaking her head and sighing. “Doesn’t matter. What matters now is how you’re going to stop him.”

“Any ideas on how to break into the Bank of England?”

She had nothing.

“I’m not ashamed to say I’ve never considered breaking into the bank. I have no layouts or guard patrol routes,” Aisha told him apologetically, leaning back against the wall. “Fredrick might have an idea.”

Jacob nodded, leaning on his arm and observed her quietly. Noticing this, she raised a brow questioningly. Slowly, he moved closer, locking eyes with each other. The way he stared at her…her heart raced faster, and her stomach twisted in knots.

He moved closer until he reached out, moving his thumb underneath her lips. Aisha’s breath caught in her throat, watching as he stared at her for a moment. Her gaze briefly moved to his lips, wondering what they’d feel like. Seems she didn’t have to wonder that for long.

Jacob Frye leaned down and kissed her.

* * *

**Songs: Nil Sen La by Celtic Woman. Can't Fight The Moonlight by LeAnn Rimes**

 


End file.
